Updated: Sep 13, 2018
There is a wound that runs deep within me. It penetrates my heart and weeps all the way down into my womb where it lay, waiting to be heard, held and healed.
I hear it’s screams with every judgemental stare, hurtful word and dishonest connection.
Some call it the witch wound, some call it the sister wound I call it the “forgotten magic sister”.
This wound runs deep in my veins and in the veins of all the women that came before me.
The depth of pain I feel at times is all consuming. I crave sisterhood more than anything most days and although I strive to be the best friend I can be, I feel the sorrow of this wound ever present in the relationships I hold dearest to my heart.
I dream of sitting in a space where fears, hopes, dreams and tears can flow for healing without judgment. Without conditions. Without fear that my wounds may be subject of coffee gossip!
I see the relationship with myself as the foundation for all those I attract so when I feel left out, outcast and ignored I wonder what is going on in the subconscious of me.
What am I not seeing?
For years I have had this feeling of magic running through my veins. My spiritual awakening happened when I became pregnant with my daughter. As the days morphed into months I soon realised I craved something deep. Deeper than I could comprehend.
The very rites of women have been omitted from our lives for centuries. Where we were once celebrated for the blood that falls between our legs, we are now punished. Where the magic and honour of giving birth to life was honoured, now comes with conditional terms, mummy shaming and women raising children alone, in the dark shrouded in fear, depression and no fucking sleep.
Imagine when our grandmothers were revered for their knowledge and story telling was our way of knowing ourselves deeply. Imagine sex was a sacred act and our Yonis were treated with utmost respect and we could look at our beautiful bodies in a mirror and not rip it to shreds for not being how “they” say it should be. When we saw the beauty of mother nature reflected in our essence.
I imagine these things all the time, because that is my true nature.
I have always been close with my mum, although she had wounds that I could never imagine carrying around and raising 8 kids alone meant challenges. I love her, I adore her, and I understand every choice she’s made.
I also have three sisters, each with there own path. We have been super close, super distant, fought, supported and ultimately always been there for each other but the bond seems wounded.….. That hurts the most.
One thing I noticed along my journey inward is that what I crave, other women crave too. We all want genuine, non-judgemental, supportive connection. But where is it? The unconditional kind of connection.
I am lucky to have a hand full of women I love and trust, but I will admit that it isn’t always like that, I don’t always trust, and it doesn’t always come without condition.
Where along my life path have I picked up this uneasy inability to trust other women? To lead with fear in friendships and compete with my ego?
When I sink into my heart and connect with my womb all I feel for other women is love. I see magic in every woman I come across, I am not always met with a space to express it or to honour it and I don’t always provide that space either.
I have had this calling, like a burning flame in the center of my being for a while now. It’s screaming at me to heal this wound between women. To rebuild the trust, community and magic that has been divided and suppressed for far too long.
I want to explore the wounds and bare myself to you, for healing. I want you to see what I see, I want you to feel what I feel, and I want you feel loved, trusted, heard, seen and perfect in all that you are.
You are a magic sister.